


Seiatsu

by Hitsugi_Zirkus



Category: Tales of Zestiria
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Dragon!Mikleo, Fallen!Sorey, Hurt/Comfort, Introspection, M/M, Tainted!AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-15
Updated: 2016-04-15
Packaged: 2018-06-02 09:57:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6561925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hitsugi_Zirkus/pseuds/Hitsugi_Zirkus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At the bottom of the ruins where everything began for them, Mikleo knows it's too late to save Sorey. But he made a decision a long time ago that he'd never let go of Sorey's hand, though he realizes that's what caught them adrift in the first place. The consequence is both of them sinking into the abyss together. </p><p>"How long can you hold your breath, Sorey?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seiatsu

**Author's Note:**

> So me and my roommates finished Tales of Zestiria recently, and it's got me so fucked up. It was such a good game and I have a lot of emotions for it, especially for Sorey and Mikleo. You'd think the first thing I'd write for them would be fluff to commemorate that beautiful epilogue, but here we are. 
> 
> Anyway, this fic of mine is pretty self-indulgent. I ended up writing a tainted!AU because all throughout the game I just kept getting worried every time Sorey's purity was fretted over and I kept thinking, "It's gonna happen, he's gonna get tainted, they keep emphasizing his purity so much, there's no way he can stay pure." It looks like I underestimated my precious Shepherd baby though. I'm disappointed it didn't happen, but because of thoughts like that I was tempted to map out my feelings on what could happen if Sorey became tainted, and how Mikleo would handle the situation. I know there's already quite a few fics for this AU, so I hope no one minds that I'm tossing my own two cents into the pile.
> 
> Hope you enjoy my first Tales of Zestiria fic!

_War was a strange thing. It made time flow and warp in such a surreal manner - fast, then slow, then meaningless. When that pivotal moment came, there was no time to grieve, no time to fall on his boneless legs, not even half a second to contemplate what to do,_ what the **hell** were they supposed to do now?

 _Maybe if he had time, he’d think about this more rationally. He was always the rational one, getting to huff and roll his eyes at the childish manner of his friend, who followed his pure heart through and through (and he_ **_trusted_ ** _that heart, so how could this outcome be so_ **_wrong_ ** _?). And sure enough his mind was on autopilot in working out a solution, directing his body in a way that he knew was the right answer, but it was one he just_ could not accept _._

_And so, despite the protests he heard behind him and the part of his mind that sounded suspiciously like the distorted screams of the one in front of him, it was so easy for his feet to drag his bloodstained body forward and fall right into the thick miasma of Sorey’s malevolence._

* * *

It was a suspicion he had ever since he first learned of the legend of the Shepherd. The fact of the matter was that maybe it was too much to ask a human to hold this much responsibility, to hold up so much hope on their shoulders. Placing the task of Shepherd on a human was just unfair; humans simply weren’t durable creatures, and their hearts were easily swayed. Gramps had made sure they’d known that early on, when Mikleo noticed that Sorey experienced things he did not like sleep and hunger and sickness, because the human body was something dependent on constant care. It had been easy for Mikleo to forget that when he’d grown up so closely with Sorey.

A part of Mikleo panicked whenever someone commented how much they needed to watch over Sorey, and ensure the purity of his heart. Mikleo himself was guilty of thrusting that pressure onto Sorey, trying to keep the glass vase of his heart together. And Mikleo hated it, hated treating Sorey like he was so fragile when he knew he was strong, hated remembering how easily the human heart was influenced, and hated monitoring for every change of current to make sure Sorey didn’t get swept away to deeper, darker depths that would taint his heart.

 _The Shepherd cannot afford to be tainted_.

Soon enough, Sorey wasn’t just “Sorey,” the kind, adventurous boy he’d grown up with - everyone desperate for salvation and peace had been putting their hands on him, thrusting onto him their expectations and faith. Sorey had become a symbol.

In retrospect, it was so obvious that if they placed Sorey at such a needle point, he’d either fall, or get pricked. But Sorey had already been so _strong_. So strong in fact, that he made the decision to undertake the mission no other Shepherd had ever even considered: he believed that he had the power and will to be Maotelus’ vessel and purify him, bringing peace back to Glenwood, leaving behind his place in time.

In that way, he was far stronger than the doubtful and analytical Mikleo, differences between humans and seraphim aside. To have held on this long was an amazing feat in and of itself, given how much ridicule, distrust, betrayal, and despair had been inflicted on him in their journey. Nothing more could dare be asked of any other human. Sorey had been doing his part.

_So where did the failure lie?_

* * *

The body did a strange thing where it took itself to where things had begun, and sank itself to the floor, leaving the mind numb to ponder just how much had changed since those days of innocence.

As it was, Mikleo couldn’t protest when he found out Sorey was keeping them hidden in the depths of the Mt. Mabinogio Ruins. Down here the walls were the same, dusty and aged and timeless, and here they stayed and healed, enduring long nights of terrible pain and blood every time their bodies reacted discordantly with the malevolence cloaking Sorey. Within that first day alone, Sorey kept his distance from Mikleo, trying to allow him space to heal his wounds from the battle with Heldalf, but the reluctance to not stay by his side was apparent.

“It’s just until you get a little better,” Sorey said, and it sounded like he was talking to himself too. “I can’t be around you if it’ll hurt you more.”

“Don’t keep me waiting long,” Mikleo returned, and he watched Sorey’s wry smile vanish in the shadows.

* * *

In the darkness, Mikleo kept having flashbacks of when he and Sorey had first fallen down here. It felt like years ago. Back then, they were self-proclaimed students of history, full of curiosity and the will to explore. Now the ruins only reminded him of their own chasms and mistakes.

 _Maybe we should have stayed in Elysia,_ he started to muse. _In the beginning, I knew the road would be hard, but I decided that I'd follow you no matter what. I was excited, just like you, going out to the human world, being a part of a legend that we thought only existed in myths._

 _But... The way things are now, I think we ended up on a different side of history than we thought we’d be._ This ruin was where it had begun. The murals and statues of Shepherds, finding Alisha, bringing a human into Elysia…

 _At least if we never left, I wouldn't have had to watch you drift away from me like this_.

Saving Sorey. Was that even possible by any stretch of the imagination? Mikleo didn’t want to give up on Sorey, but whether or not he could save him in the first place, he didn’t know. Sorey had always been the one to catch him whenever he fell down holes, not the other way around.

So far, it looked like he was nowhere near as strong as he wanted to be, and now both he and Sorey were stuck falling further down the darkest pit they’d ever been in. But even if he was choking on the putrid air of malevolence, Mikleo wasn’t going to let go of Sorey’s hand. It was in his vows as a Sublord, as a friend, as a…

“Did that hurt?”

The scent of malevolence clouded around Mikleo, dizzying him much more than the kiss that had just been broken from his lips. There was a dull darkness in Sorey’s eyes that Mikleo wasn’t familiar with.

Being around Sorey _did_ hurt, in a lot of ways.

Prior to this, Sorey had been his buffer from malevolence. Now that Sorey’s very soul and body were undergoing changes from being tainted, Mikleo knew that, seraph’s durability or not, he was going to follow suit. By now, Lailah and the others must’ve severed their oath to Sorey. His position as Sublord must’ve also dissolved as a result, yet somehow threads continued to connect the two of them, and with each breath, Mikleo infused his body with more of Sorey’s malevolence. It was a slow process, but it was undeniably in the works.

What hurt wasn’t just that dark miasma though. It was also the Sorey-but-not in front of him that sounded, felt, and acted just like Sorey, even when the starlight in his eyes had vanished and the summer breeze of his laughs were non-existent, as if he’d barely smiled with sincere mirth in his life. That hurt. That Sorey tried to hide it all by keeping his distance for the past few days had hurt. Their first kiss that Mikleo had imagined would go differently, under blue skies or countless glittering stars and not bleeding with taint, hurt.

“Mikleo.”

Sorey’s question finally sank in. He heard how Sorey commanded his name - not loudly, but the low edge was certainly new.  

Mikleo’s lips, tingling with Sorey’s taste, opened to speak, “No. It didn’t hurt.”

Sorey looked visibly satisfied. “So I can still touch you.”

The air alone was terrible enough, what difference would a kiss or two make? Besides, Mikleo didn’t hate the physical contact, even when Sorey was dyed darker by the day. Yet some part of himself still tried to test the waters with Mikleo to make sure he didn’t fully oppress him with his malevolence when he was next to him. Maybe it was Sorey’s doing in the end that he wasn’t a dragon by now.

It was strange, being cradled this dearly by darkness.

“You don’t have to be so scared,” Mikleo said. “You can touch me and be near me, I’m not going to flinch away.”

Shakily, Sorey smiled. The optimism and bright sincerity of it had cracked, leaving him with a bitter, empty expression. “And your shoulder? What about your eye? Does that still hurt?”

Mikleo wished he could say he still felt normal; the truth of the matter though was that he was always aware of that jagged, throbbing laceration that ran from his forehead down to his cheek and down again over his left shoulder. So far, even when the bleeding had stopped, no healing spells or gels had done anything for him. As it was, he simply kept both injuries under the trappings of white bandages, especially his eye. He didn’t want to take them off and face the likely possibility that even if he opened his eye, he wouldn’t be able to see anything in it. He didn’t want Sorey to have that confirmed for him either. At the precarious state they were in, they didn’t need more fuel for their anger and regret. Though whether or not it was too late for them anyway was another matter Mikleo would rather not think about.

“It’s fine,” he finally said. “Idiot.”

(Unlike Sorey, he was an excellent liar. Water could take many guises, after all.)

“Good. I’m so glad to hear that.” Sorey didn’t sound convinced, but he still leaned in to press another rather chaste kiss to Mikleo’s lips, then again right under his bandages.

Even with that innate part of himself that told him to run from this touch of malevolence, Mikleo put his arms around Sorey and held him. He was so solid, and alive. Tainted. Twisted. In pain. But still alive, both of them.

* * *

Seraphim didn’t need sleep. But the threat of corruption while still retaining his seraph form was a tug-of-war that made Mikleo feel like he was sleepwalking, suspended between being awake and drifting along the tides of dreams. That had to be why funny things kept swimming in his head. Flickering like lightening...

Again.

And again.

_They faced the horrendous image of Heldalf standing there, crowned by swirling black-and-purple miasma, Gramps’ face so clearly morphed onto that huge hand. Mikleo remembered feeling physically torn down to his bones, despair trembling his body - twofold thanks to his connection with Sorey, who was also yelling in agony._

_But their bodies moved automatically, dashing towards Heldalf, glaring daggers into his challenging countenance - and Mikleo didn’t so much as blink when Sorey called his name and they armatized, moving and drawing their bow as one._

_War affected time in such strange ways. In the second between when they drew their arrow and released it, a thousand illuminated memories played behind their eyes: their childhood, the love and home and family they were given - all to be washed away by time now. There would be no new memories._

_With Heldalf stricken by the pierce of their arrow, the emotional burden became too much for their body, swirling and clawing inside them until like a bursted bubble they split apart. Mikleo immediately buckled to his hands and knees, but a single cry could barely leave him before pain brutally shred into his flesh, his circlet shattering and clothes tearing._

_Knocked back, his vision was red. He distantly heard the distressed calls of his comrades, but he couldn’t face them. He clutched the blooming pain in his left eye, howling in agony, blood seeping between his pale fingers._

_Sorey screamed his name, thick with tears, and in the fading noise of battle, Mikleo’s ears rang with that scream--_

_Heldalf’s powerful footsteps approached, his claws reaching out for the others. What Mikleo managed to make out while helpless and unmoving on the floor was Rose cycling between armatizations of Lailah, Edna, and Zaveid, bringing up rock barriers and sending fireballs flying and riding the wind to dodge Heldalf’s onslaught of attacks._

_Dizzy. He was dizzy, his voice reduced to pathetic whimpers as he laid uselessly, willing Sorey to call his name so that they could get back into the fray as well, they had to help the others; Zaveid was sporting severe wounds now, which Lailah was trying to heal, while a fatigued and armatized Rose and Edna tried to hold Heldalf off--_

_His world faded to slow-turning noise and black. And when he managed to wake up again, his head on Lailah’s lap, and it was she who realized it._

_“_ **_Sorey, NO!_ ** _” was her desperate cry._

_Pain and heartbreak were flooding into Mikleo’s bloodstream, heavily infused with darkness that choked him. The source of it...was the mass of miasma next to them where he’d seen Sorey standing._

His eye was pulsating, so forcefully like it was threatening to burst.

The memories swirled down into the abyss like a whirlpool as Mikleo adjusted back to reality. The burden certainly caused him to feel vertigo that tilted him every which way, making him sick along with the unbearable pain. He leaned heavily against the wall, his body feeling as though it were convulsing, and his groans filled the chasm of the room he was in.

“Mikleo!”

Sorey was kneeling down beside him. Whether he arrived by shadow or if he was pulled along by their connection, Mikleo wasn’t sure, but Sorey being there was what mattered, and he didn’t resist the hands that caressed him.

“It’s nothing, it’ll go away,” he said, voice strained.

“ _Liar_ ,” Sorey said, and he began to unravel the dirtied bandages over Mikleo’s eye. Mikleo let him - as Sorey was now, he didn’t know how to shrug off his advances. His concerns were more direct and aggressive, laced with black razors.

Sorey seemed to have the air squeezed out of him at the sight of what was under the bandages. “Damn,” he cursed under his breath. “Mikleo… Your eye, it… _Damn_!” Sorey pounded his fist into the ground. It was absent of the Shepherd’s glove by now, and his skin broke at the impact of the stone floor.

“What? What is it? How can I know what you’re upset about if you don’t tell me?” Mikleo snapped, trying to hold down his panic. He reached up himself, tracing along the thick line of the cut. His eye… He had it closed, but just from feeling around it, he could tell what it was that Sorey was despairing about.

Framing the skin around his eye was rough, bumpy flesh, rubbing against Mikleo’s fingertips in a way that indicated neither normal skin or caked blood. Mikleo had felt such a texture only once before - on Edna’s brother.

Scales were surrounding his eye.

In disbelief, he tore away the bandages on his shoulder as well. There too, the growth of scales ran along the wound, a dark silver color.

“What...is this?” he whispered. “I knew I was swallowing malevolence, but I didn’t realize my body was already…” _How am I still here? I-I should be a dragon by now if scales are showing up like this !_

“Your body was always undergoing change,” Sorey said, his frustration quietly taut. “The pains you keep having are me trying to fight off your transformation. I thought doing that would let me be near you again. But just now,” his voice strained, “I couldn’t hold back the malevolence for just a second. It came inside me all at once, and I…” With a vexed noise, he pulled back the sleeve of his shirt - there, running down his arm, were his veins, now protruding grotesquely and colored an inky black.

“ _Sorey_ , that’s--”

“Because I slipped in my concentration, you ended up suffering too,” Sorey said. “And now… _Damn it_!”

Mikleo inhaled. It was as he thought. Sorey had still been putting all this pressure and blame on himself. He had already suspected that Sorey had been trying to keep the malevolence from transforming him into a dragon, but he hadn’t realized he was already this far gone and that the struggle had been on Sorey’s expense.

Sorey was still being balanced on that needlepoint.

“You idiot,” he whispered. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m doing what I can for you.” Sorey’s answer was matter-of-fact. “Just because I screwed up doesn’t mean you have to pay for it too.”

Now Mikleo slammed his fist into the stone under them. “And I thought I _told_ you that you don’t have to do that kind of thing for me! I’m not one of your helpless flock, Sorey, I’m your _partner_! Why are you still doing this to yourself!?” Mikleo’s frustration spilled from his lips in a powerful wave. If he hadn’t heard it himself, he would’ve denied the underlying growl in his tone. It surprised him. He’d only meant to show how concerned he was, and yet even his intentions were beginning to be filtered by malevolence. Shaken, he immediately closed his mouth, not wanting to hurt Sorey with his words.

In the silence, Sorey’s eyes flashed dangerously, but he didn’t send any malice towards Mikleo either; he was confident that Sorey would never hurt him, especially since he knew Sorey had been protecting him all this time. That gaze alone though was like hands on his shoulders, keeping him rooted and calm - when had Sorey been the one to do that for Mikleo?

“It’s the least I can do,” Sorey muttered. “After all, I’m the one who did this to you in the first place. It’s my doing, for not keeping a better eye on Heldalf. I started falling, and I had the selfishness to not push you away when you followed me down.”

“That was _my_ decision,” Mikleo said, his voice calmer and quieter. “And if anything, this is _both_ our faults. We’re as one when we armatize, so we share each other’s feelings. With what happened back there,” Mikleo tensed to keep himself composed in the face of those nightmarish memories, “our emotions influenced each other. Became more intense. In a place polluted with malevolence like that, it flooded into the first crevice that opened in our hearts. And so you were already in a vulnerable state when Heldalf took advantage of that split second when we de-armatized and he attacked me… To push you off the edge.”

_And it worked. We tripped at the very last step and fell back. And now Rose, Lailah, everyone… We left them behind to take care of our mess…_

The images pulsed behind his injured eye, still closed - the horrific sight of Sorey standing before the Lord of Calamity, wearing malevolence himself now - Siegfried useless with all of them injured, Heldalf’s final form overwhelming.

But Sorey was here still. Heldalf was not.

It was a few moments before Sorey spoke again, and for the first time, Mikleo saw his expression was one of utter exhaustion. “Hey… Can I tell you something I’ve been thinking about lately?”

All of his pain was overpowered by his concern for Sorey. “Of course.”

“Why wasn’t I allowed to just be human, Mikleo?”

The question surprised Mikleo, although it shouldn’t have. If he thought about it, that same question had crossed his mind whenever Sorey had been close to touching malevolence with his heart. Every part of his expression of emotion was so closely monitored, but that was no one’s fault. Perhaps, they had all just taken Sorey’s optimism for granted. He had a heart nurtured by the purest beings on earth, but in the end, it was still a human heart. All Shepherds had just been human really, but they had to be the very best side of humanity, full of hope.

There was no such thing as full purity. Even seraphim could be corrupted into dragons. Yet no one stopped Sorey from trying to get rid of Heldalf and hold Maotelus’ corruption for centuries.

Saying “ _because you were the Shepherd, because Gramps and Lailah and everyone believed in your pure heart_ ” didn’t seem sufficient enough an answer, and he was left speechless.

It seemed like his silence was all Sorey needed though. The thoughtful expression on his face looked strange, all downturned lips and darkly glimmering eyes.

“I think it’s not right,” his tone gained an edge that caught Mikleo’s attention, “that we have to suppress our emotions like this, that we can’t be as free with our anger or sadness the way we can with happiness. What’s the point of being human if we can’t feel everything our hearts have to offer? I left Elysia hoping to experience the human world. So far, all I’ve witnessed is this war about what the world should and shouldn’t be like. I thought I knew what we had to do, about Glenwood, about Heldalf, about Maotelus… But now, I think it was all wrong. It was wrong. Both sides. Everyone.” The corners of his lips quirked up, as if he’d been told a twisted joke.

Mikleo’s breath hitched. “You’re going to accept the malevolence then? And what? Become the next Lord of Calamity?”

Sorey’s jaw tensed. “No. I’m never going to become Heldalf. But… I don’t think there’s anything wrong with accepting malevolence.” Mikleo’s shock was palpable, and Sorey looked up with his eyes seeming to glint crimson in the dim light. His smile was cruel. “What’s with that look? Is it that you disagree?”

“Sorey. _Please_ think about what you’re saying for one second. How can you blame my reluctance to accept this when we were taught all our lives to avoid hellions, to never birth malevolence?”

“But that’s what I’m saying, Mikleo. We were taught all wrong. You know, ever since I’ve become tainted, I’ve come to understand a lot of things from a different perspective. I’ve been able to see and hear things I couldn’t before. Wherever I go, I’m engulfed by it.”

“By what?” Mikleo whispered.

“Their suffering. Everyone’s suffering.” Sorey’s expression softened, but only slightly, drifting off to the sound of invisible dirges. He focused back to Mikleo. “ _Your_ suffering. When I close my eyes, I feel it - the loneliness you had inside you all along. How scared you were that I’d leave you behind. Your anger and terror clawing into you when I said I would become Maotelus’ vessel. I hear your cries of when you were just a baby, surrounded by that destruction when--”

“ _Don’t!_ ” Mikleo shoved his palms over Sorey’s mouth. It was an impulsive move, but his body had just moved on its own. But he didn’t want to hear it. He didn’t want Sorey to finish that sentence when everything else had been right on target - and he’d tried so _hard_ to not let Sorey see any of that, to not know those feelings he had that made him sound like such a - a _human_. He was just as transparent as his element, and in order to hide those feelings from Sorey, he created deeper depths for them to drown in.

 _I just wanted to be strong for you_...

Sorey hadn’t so much as flinched at Mikleo’s action. His eyes carefully observed him, as if gauging for his next reaction. They bore onto Mikleo patiently, but with such compliance it was as if Sorey had known his words would dig into Mikleo this way.

When Mikleo’s palms did slip away, Sorey gathered his hands back up, bringing them up to his lips. Reverent kisses were placed on Mikleo’s knuckles.

“I’m sorry,” Sorey murmured, “I shouldn’t have made you cry.”

 _I’m not crying_. The protest was there, poised on Mikleo’s tongue in a habitual retort, but it remained frozen. His eyes were flooding with tears, and it was through his blurred vision that he realized that he’d opened his injured eye in the middle of that outburst.

Sorey met that eye calmly. Instead of any disgust or anger for the injury inflicted there, Sorey’s gaze was actually full of admiration - and awe.

“I will say this: in that fight with Eizen, I couldn’t really take in the finer details… But I doubt his would’ve compared to yours anyway.” Sorey’s smile returned, his hand coming up to brush his thumb at over Mikleo’s scaled cheek.

“That dragon eye of yours,” he said, “it’s really beautiful, Mikleo. If it was you, you’d definitely be the most magnificent dragon.”

A heavy chill shuddered down Mikleo’s body. That reverence, that rapture - Mikleo didn’t understand who the Sorey in front of him was. Mikleo didn’t understand, and could only continue to watch Sorey crumble and darken before his eyes like an underground ruin, his own history and scars weathering his body.  

It flowed into Mikleo too, that darkness. His bones quaked, his insides contracting. It hurt, and by the excited glimmer in Sorey’s eyes, the scales had to be spreading more over his face, in all the places Sorey caressed him.

“Sorey, please stop, you’re scaring me.”

At those words, Sorey looked in pain, conflicted, his crimson eyes gleaming with building tears, even when his smile remained. But decisively, his hand shifted from Mikleo’s cheek down to settle around his neck. “ _Right_ . You should be scared of me,” he said. “I’m the Fallen Shepherd that killed the Lord of Calamity without a hint of remorse or mercy. And I can barely control myself anymore. I just - want to suffocate _everything_.” His voice was tinged with despair and loss, he was so _lost_ , it was pooling deeper into his eyes in an endless abyss. “I was the most naive, the most blind to pain all along - and now I can’t _stop_ suffering. _But I can fix it_. I can recreate the world, write a whole new history - both of us could do it, Mikleo.”

“Sorey.” Tears were falling from Mikleo’s eyes again. Where was Sorey? What was happening to him? The hand around his neck was nothing; what he feared were Sorey’s words. This wasn’t the same Sorey that had such faith in the world and determined with a wide grin that he’d bring peace to it again. At the same time, Mikleo knew Sorey wasn’t lying. He never could lie.

“We could do it,” Sorey continued. He pressed Mikleo against the wall with his own body, breath brushing over his skin. “After all, we either work with the malevolence in our favor - or get rid of each other right here. Dual suicides are in all the tragic romantic stories, right?”

Mikleo let out a shaky breath, a desperate smile playing on his lips at the ridiculous notion. “I can’t kill you, idiot.” _That’s why I followed you instead of listening to the others. I held you back, like I feared I would. And now you’re tainted because of me. And I’m becoming tainted because of you._

 _Because we never let go, we dragged each other underwater to drown_.

Sorey beamed at his answer, all poisoned moonlight. “I’m really happy to hear that. I couldn’t ever kill you either.” He finally slid his hand away from Mikleo’s throat, and leaned in to place an apologetic kiss to it. Into the crook of Mikleo’s neck, where scales were beginning to dot the flesh, Sorey murmured, “Do you think we’re selfish?”

“Maybe. But you already made your decision, haven’t you? It’s impossible to change your mind.”

Sorey laughed. That delighted hitch of breath almost made it sound the same as before, but the sigh at the end was low and heavy. “True enough. In that case, this was all inevitable, huh? We were gonna chose each other over the world… That’s what you did. And what I’m doing now. So let’s make a better world. One we don’t have to hide in or fear anything. Nothing bad has to happen to us anymore, Mikleo.”

Mikleo paused at that. Nothing bad would happen “to _us_ ,” not “the world”. The detail made him happier than it should have. They had been born in suffering, tied into this destiny, cleaning a mess that had nothing to do with them. And suddenly, he could see what Sorey was talking about: they were _tired_. History kept repeating with this tug-of-war between benevolence and malevolence and in the end nothing but oscillating waves had been created to such a degree that the slightest sway of a heart could make a human into a hellion, and seraphim into dragons.

What kind of world was that?

What if just holding onto malevolence _was_ the answer?

It was a theory Heldalf had tried to enact, but he wasn’t going about it the way Sorey wanted to. Maybe...everything _had_ been wrong all along.

Sorey had apparently been watching Mikleo shift through his thoughts, the clarity that made his body relax, take in that first breath of malevolence that didn’t hurt at all. Sorey looked like he was just waiting for Mikleo to voice his agreement now.

The miasma lacing into his bones, his love for Sorey that embraced his entire being - it moved through him in a strange harmony he had never felt before.

If this was Sorey’s answer, then he didn't have to go through so much suffering just to protect Mikleo. Mikleo never wanted Sorey to suffer ever again. He just wanted him free.

“Back there,” he started meaningfully, “if you had pushed me away and it turned out that we’d have to oppose each other later - then I’d turn into a dragon anyway. That’s why I followed you into the malevolence. It didn’t matter what it’d do to me, I just didn’t want to let you go. If I did, I was...so scared that I’d never see you again. And so I went after you. I just wanted more than anything to still be on the same side as you.”

Sorey’s eyes shone like dark flame, and he embraced Mikleo. “I’m glad,” he said in rapture. “I’m so glad, Mikleo. I hoped that you’d agree willingly. And for the record, I actually am happy that you didn’t leave me alone. You’re why I didn’t become a hellion right away after I killed Heldalf.”

( _The malevolence swirled around Sorey like a vortex, staining his eyes and skin and clothes. That brilliant darkness would be forever imprinted behind Mikleo’s eyes. Even so, blood cascading down his face, tarnishing his clothes, Mikleo rushed to Sorey, grabbing him with his hands - embracing him so tight to keep those breaking pieces of his best friend together._

 _"Don't!" he'd pleaded, though for what he hadn't realized yet. "Don't, Sorey--"_ )

Mikleo ran his hands through the unkempt strands of Sorey’s hair. He had decided a long time ago that he would wash away any of Sorey’s suffering. He would help Sorey through his burdens, and hold him up against the tides. If this was what would make Sorey happy, if this was his new dream, then Mikleo would help him see it through, just like before.

Feeling Mikleo's acceptance, Sorey stroked his cheek. “Are you ready then?”

“Let’s go outside. I’d rather not destroy anything in here if I end up going berserk.” Mikleo said it casually, but the gravity hit him afterwards. When he became a dragon - he _would_ destroy things. _Maybe he’d even hurt Sorey_.

Sorey held his hands and squeezed them. “I’ll have you, okay? As soon as you transform, I’ll be taking care of you.”

Without mirth, Mikleo scoffed like he were berating Sorey just like old times. “You’ll tame me like your pet?”

“You’ll always be my partner, nothing less.” The smile Sorey offered then was the most like his old self that Mikleo had seen since they’d come down to the ruins.

Their hands intertwined as they made their way to the surface - one hand growing scales, the other growing twisted from the blackened veins and bones beneath. As they reached outside, the cold night breeze rustling their hair and the dark-purple clouds swirling above to block out the stars, Mikleo thought that somehow he wasn't scared. He was sure that giving up their old forms as seraph and Shepherd was something to make his heart teeter with hesitation. But just like when he'd chased Sorey, he acted with instinct. After all, despite everything, it was easy for him to trust Sorey.

They reached a clearing in the trees and stopped there. It was a big space. Big enough for a dragon to be in without branches getting in the way of the sky. Mikleo turned to face Sorey. "Hey," he murmured, "make sure that I don't hurt you. That's...the only thing I'm scared of."

A kiss was placed on his forehead. "You soon won't have to be scared of anything at all." He moved back, took in Mikleo's face one last time, murmuring a soft word of love before he then leaned back in to have their lips meet.

The effect was automatic. Sorey finally let his guard down and all the malevolence he'd been holding back immediately swept in, flaring around his body and engulfing Mikleo in the process like scattering razor petals. His attention wasn't paid to this new embrace, instead swallowed by the feel of Sorey's lips, their tender kiss from which malevolence spilled down Mikleo's throat, filling his lungs, his skin overheating from the scales that dotted down his flesh, his body being transformed from the inside-out. Still, neither of them let go. In the kiss, Mikleo tasted bitter darkness, rich with Sorey's sorrow and anger and pain - and the pleasure of his freedom to no longer have a need to fight the malevolence. That same taint flooded into Mikleo until he couldn't tell their hearts apart anymore. 

At the end of it, his terrible roar trembled the earth, and his wings split the very air with their powerful gale.

Right beside him, Sorey was laughing loudly with taint-soaked delight. Mikleo could still recognize him, and hearing Sorey's unbridled happiness prompted him to roar again as if he were feeling that twisted bliss too.

" _I was right_ ," Mikleo heard him say, his eyes unmistakably red, holding unrestrained, cruel mirth. "You really _are_ the most beautiful thing I've ever seen..."

* * *

  _My element is one that can be easily influenced. I used to hate that. I thought it made me too human and unable to protect you. But lately… I’ve been thinking that if I could be the same as you, Sorey, then I’d be okay with that. I wanted to bridge that gap between our hearts as much as possible._

 _And right now, with you feeding your malevolence into me, I’ve never felt closer to you_.

**Author's Note:**

> In writing this, I had "Control" by Halsey on repeat, so at first I was gonna name the fic "control" written in kanji. In seeing synonyms for it though, I came across "制圧 (seiatsu)," in which the first kanji meant "control" and the other meant "pressure". Read together, it means "suppression". So I thought it'd be a fitting title considering all the plays of these words applying to a fallen Sorey. I ended up just writing it in romaji for easy reading access, but the intention is still there!!
> 
> I have several other Tainted!AU ideas, but I'll write those in a moderate timeframe and try to squeeze in fluff, because I do want these boys to be happy (although in this fic, as long as they were together, they were happy, tainted or not). (And eventually I wanna write a Sorey that really is twisted without reservations, so look forward to that; I'm sorry this one was so introspection-heavy OTL) 
> 
> Consume soymilk for days.
> 
> Tumblr, clears-jellyfish-dress  
> Twitter, @fuwajellyfish


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